


A Faithful Heart Beats

by undelicate



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Cats, Dogs, Falling in Love in Winter, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28755714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undelicate/pseuds/undelicate
Summary: “Excuse me, but can I have a dumpling?”Minho jumped and squeaked out a curse at the sudden voice. After the miserable day he’d had, would a mugging be the cherry on top?With tense shoulders he turned on his heel and faced a young man who stood a bit shorter than him and whose black hair reflected the moonlight. His round eyes glistened in the dark, though his cheeks were even rounder—not unlike dumplings, ironically.Minho stared back dumbly for a moment before responding, against his better judgment. “You want my... dumpling?”“Oh, not for me,” the young man said with shyness coloring his voice. He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “For my friend over there.”---------AKA: A stray dog brings Minho and Jisung together on a fateful night.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 20
Kudos: 319
Collections: Minsung





	A Faithful Heart Beats

“Two large dumplings, please,” Minho said as he handed the cash to the street vendor. “One kimchi and one pork.”

“Of course,” the lady replied with a smile.

Minho moved his left arm gingerly so as to not worsen the searing pain in his shoulder, and he received the piping hot buns wrapped in paper.

His mind flashed back to the trying day he’d had at the dance studio. Hindered by his injury, his lessons hadn’t gone the way he’d planned at all, and he’d clashed with his colleagues over scheduling conflicts.

After a day full of missteps (both figuratively and literally), he basked in the warmth of street food in his hands—a nugget of solace.

“Excuse me, but can I have a dumpling?”

Minho jumped and squeaked out a curse at the sudden voice. After the miserable day he’d had, would a mugging be the cherry on top?

With tense shoulders he turned on his heel and faced a young man who stood a bit shorter than him and whose black hair reflected the moonlight. His round eyes glistened in the dark, though his cheeks were even rounder—not unlike dumplings, ironically.

Minho stared back dumbly for a moment before responding, against his better judgment. “You want my... dumpling?”

“Oh, not for me,” the young man said with shyness coloring his voice. He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “For my friend over there.”

Minho relaxed his posture as he was fairly certain this man was no mugger or a menace of the night. He craned his neck to peer past the stranger, and a tiny dog huddled beside a street lamp came into view, visibly nervous under the poor lighting.

“Is that your dog?” Minho asked.

“No, she’s a stray I’ve been trying to catch for the past week. I asked around the neighborhood and no one’s claimed her so far.”

Minho frowned and clutched tighter onto his precious food. “And what do my dumplings have to do with this?”

The stranger’s face fell; a small thorn of regret pricked at Minho’s side.

“I was on my way home when I happened to spot her,” the young man said in a quieter voice. “She probably hasn’t eaten all day, which is why I asked you for... Actually, never mind, it was rude of me. Sorry for disturbing you.” He gave a shallow bow and began to walk away in the other direction.

Minho couldn’t tell which was sadder: the little dog cowering down the street, or the stranger’s dejected silhouette. He eyed his own dumplings and sighed.

“Kimchi or pork filling?”

The man turned around at that with a questioning stare. Minho held out the two dumplings, one in each hand.

“Dogs like pork better, right?” Minho took several steps forward and pressed the warm, fluffy bun into the other’s hand. The young man glanced at the newly acquired dumpling in his possession, then up at Minho, then back down again.

_Awkward._

Not wishing to prolong the moment—with a stranger in the dark no less—Minho muttered a good night and briskly continued homeward.

A pair of yellow eyes was waiting for him when he approached the front steps of his house.

“Nami,” he cooed at the stray black cat that came bounding toward him. She weaved in and out of his legs, purring sweetly and content to receive his head scratches. Her fluffier and more aloof sibling, Gureum, was perched on the top step and deigned to acknowledge Minho with a curt meow.

Minho broke his kimchi dumpling in half as a humble offering for the two strays. He sat down on the steps to watch them wolf down every bite, and when Nami gently headbutted his hand for more scratches, he murmured on about how his day had gone as if she’d understood every word.

* * *

Minho had few regrets in life. But he cursed the day he was sixteen and stupid and had somehow thought it a brilliant idea to slide head-first into home base. Stunned by the agonizing pain in his shoulder, he hadn’t even heard the umpire yell safe.

He was certain he had recovered completely since then, but years later, all it took was a tumble on uneven ground to rip open the old wound.

For the past few weeks, what had once been a mindless morning routine of showering and getting dressed became a laborious task due to his inability to lift his left arm to a useful degree. Seungmin, one of his two roommates, had jokingly offered to scrub his back in the shower. He retracted his words when Minho reached for the nearest box of tissues.

“There’s ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet,” Jeongin, the youngest, supplied upon seeing Minho groan out in pain while struggling with his shirt.

“No thanks, that stuff works for two hours max before the pain comes back worse than before.” Minho fastened the top button with some effort. “I prefer to work through the pain.”

And so he did.

As he stepped off the bus later that evening, his burning shoulder was a reminder of another grueling day at the dance studio. His boss Chan had urged him to take it easy and stick to teaching less challenging choreography, but what good would that have been for his students? Or his own reputation?

He heard the lady from the nearby food stand calling out, and for a moment, the nagging pain was eclipsed by the scent of steamed dumplings wafting through the chilly night air.

“The usual?” the lady at the stand greeted. Minho quickly paid and accepted the two dumplings wrapped in paper. His mind drifted into an ease at the familiar warmth of the steamed buns.

He had taken the last bite of the kimchi dumpling by the time he reached his street. Halfway down the path, he spotted a figure crouched in front of a gated entrance of someone’s house, mumbling something to himself. The man’s voice sounded familiar...

“Psst! Here little puppy... I have treats for you...”

The man held in his hands what appeared to be a bag of dog treats, and he slid a biscuit under the gate.

“What’s going on?” Minho asked without thinking.

The man yelped in surprise and fell squarely on his rear end. He looked up at Minho with familiar round eyes, looking like a petrified squirrel. “Christ, you scared me!”

Minho snorted and adjusted his scarf to reveal more of his face, hoping the other would recognize him and that he’d meant no harm. “I know you’re not trying to break into that property or anything, but the neighbors might not be so understanding.”

The other sighed. “The stray from the other day—she somehow squeezed through the gate, so I’m trying to get her out. The homeowners might not be so happy to find a stray dog on their property.”

Minho knew he was right, recalling more than a few times in which angry neighbors had yelled at stray animals roaming too close to their homes for comfort.

For someone who was a grown adult—at least that’s what Minho surmised—this man knew how to pout to rival the most piteous toddler. Despite wishing to go home already and ice his stupid aching shoulder, Minho couldn’t ignore the tugging in his chest.

He crouched down next to the man and held out his uneaten dumpling.

“Try luring her out with this.”

The young man hesitated for a moment before stuffing the bag of treats in his coat pocket and accepting the offering with a murmured thanks. He broke off a small chunk of the dumpling and placed it near the bottom of the gate. And they waited.

And waited some more.

Minho glanced at his phone and saw that barely two minutes had passed; why did it feel like an eternity?

“What’s your name?” the other whispered.

“Oh—me?” Minho then hurried to cover up his own dumb question, “Lee Minho.”

“Han Jisung,” the young man said with a casual salute.

Minho shifted to sit cross-legged on the concrete since his feet were becoming numb from squatting. “I haven’t seen you around before. Did you move here recently?”

“Yeah—I live with my parents down the block actually. I came in last month from Seoul.”

Minho hummed in acknowledgment. “How do you like it here?”

The wrinkling of the other’s nose told him enough. It wasn’t a sleepy town by any means, but it was no metropolis bustling with excitement, either.

Jisung tilted his head, as if to figure out how to politely frame his answer. “It’s... nice enough.”

“The dumplings here are delicious, better than the ones from Seoul.”

“Really?”

“Yep. They taste much less pretentious.” Minho realized a beat too late that perhaps he shouldn’t joke so casually with a stranger, but Jisung’s subtle smile put the thought to rest.

“And you’re an expert in dumpling-ology?”

Minho’s gaze shifted to Jisung’s own dumpling-like cheeks; he resisted the sudden urge to poke them.

“Look!” Jisung whisper-shouted, pointing to a tiny white snout peeking out under the gate. It chomped down the bit of food in quick bites and disappeared.

Jisung placed another piece of dumpling on the ground, a bit farther away this time in hopes to lure the dog out completely. A moment later, a white paw poked out and batted the food back under the gate. Minho couldn’t help but laugh.

“Damn, she’s a smart cookie,” Jisung lamented.

Inspired by a sudden thought, Minho plucked the remainder of dumpling from Jisung’s hand and broke it into several pieces, placing them in an outward trail from the bottom of the gate. He tapped Jisung’s arm and motioned him to stand up.

“She obviously doesn’t trust strangers,” Minho said, “so let’s give her some space, shall we?”

Jisung bit his lower lip to ponder it, then nodded. With quiet footsteps they retreated into an alleyway—which was more like a crevice between two buildings—on the other side of the street. They found themselves practically chest-to-chest as the space was barely wide enough to fit two people. Minho tried his best to angle his body away without jostling his injured shoulder.

Before he could overthink the awkwardness of their positions (and how he could smell Jisung’s shampoo from such proximity), something furry crawled out from under the gate and gulped up the bits of food, shimmying out completely toward the last few bites. Minho could properly see her now: a dainty little pup with scruffy white fur and patches of cream color on her ears and tail. Even as a staunch cat person, Minho recognized how cute she was with her mismatched ears: one pricked and the other slightly floppy.

After licking up every crumb, she trotted into the shadows of the street—somewhere safe from the neighbors’ wrath, Minho hoped.

“You’re a genius,” Jisung said. As if some effect of the cramped space they shared, the softness of his voice enveloped Minho like a warm hug.

“I get that a lot,” Minho said in nonchalance. “It’s practically my title.”

Jisung was the first to slip out of the alleyway, taking the warmth with him. He offered another salute in parting. “Noted, Genius Lee-nim.”

* * *

“You’re not coming in tomorrow,” Chan said with arms crossed. He had approached Minho in the studio who was tidying up after his last class.

Minho pulled up his t-shirt collar to wipe his sweaty brow. “What?”

“Or the day after. In fact, you’re taking the whole week off.”

Minho paused, dumbfounded. “Am I being fired?”

“No,” Chan rolled his eyes, “but you’re under official orders to rest your shoulder. I’ve seen you move around for the past week, and it ain’t pretty.”

“It’s a minor sprain, that’s all,” Minho insisted. “I do mobility exercise daily and acupuncture twice a week. Just give me a couple more weeks and I’ll be as good as new.” He stuffed his spare shoes into his backpack and casually slung the bag over his left shoulder to prove his point. Except he grimaced at the burst of hot pain flaring up from the sudden movement. _Shit._

Chan threw him a _look_ that told him the discussion was over.

“Our schedule’s been slow lately anyway,” Chan said, mercifully sparing him further reprimand. “Hyunjin and Felix will cover for you in the meantime. I’ve discussed it with them already and they’re more than willing to help out.”

And that was that, apparently.

Despite not needing to get up early next morning for work, Minho suffered a fitful night’s sleep thanks to the constant reminder of his aching shoulder and dreams about his ill-fated slide into home base.

He didn’t feel much better in the morning when he found himself puttering around the house alone after Seungmin and Jeongin had left for their respective classes. So he bundled up in his coat without bothering to change out of his fuzzy pajama bottoms, and he went outside to feed Nami and Gureum.

Beckoned by the sound of canned food popping open, Nami came bounding up to him with her usual enthusiasm while Gureum kept his distance. Minho sat on the steps for a while longer and watched the cats groom themselves after a satisfying meal.

From the corner of his eye, he caught something small and white approaching from the sidewalk—which he quickly discerned as the stray dog that had eluded Jisung. She sniffed the air a few times; it was clear she’d been lured here by the scent of cat food.

Much as he wanted to scoop up the dog in his arms, he knew that any sudden movement would spook her, so he watched silently as Nami perked up at the newcomer and stalked over to her. The cat’s tail was up and curled at the end like a question mark, a sign of friendliness. Minho breathed a sigh of relief. (As expected, Gureum observed cautiously from afar with his tail curled around his feet.)

Then the most unexpected scene unfolded: the little dog trotted straight to Nami with a wagging tail, eager to return the friendly greeting. Somehow Minho had the cognizance in that moment to pull out his phone and snap a photo just as the two touched noses.

The shutter sound of the camera, however, sent the dog scampering away in a blink, leaving Nami looking back at Minho in confusion.

* * *

“Genius Lee-nim!”

Minho nearly dropped his groceries at the surprise greeting. He collected himself as he recognized Jisung jogging up to him in the dimly-lit street.

“Good evening,” Minho said, pretending like he didn’t nearly have a heart attack. His face flushed in embarrassment at the silly nickname that Jisung had called him by.

The other had been outside for some time, judging by the pink of his nose and cheeks. It was rather adorable, Minho thought offhandedly.

“I didn’t see you last night,” Jisung said with a smile tinged with shyness.

“Pardon?”

“You usually get off the bus around half past six, don’t you? I mean, that’s when we ran into each other the last two times. I—I swear I’m not stalking you though! I was just out here searching for the puppy and I happened to notice...” Jisung paused for a bit after stumbling over his words, and he shoved his hands in his pockets as if to reset his thoughts. “Um, do you wanna grab some coffee?”

“Oh,” Minho said, a warmth blooming in his chest before he could realize. It had been forever since anyone had requested his company in a non-working context.

“My treat,” Jisung added, “as a gesture of thanks since you were nice enough to donate your dumplings to me.”

“Technically, they were for the dog.”

Minho giggled when Jisung rolled his eyes in equal good nature.

“As much as I’d like to take advantage of your offer,” Minho jostled a dangling grocery bag with his knee, “I have to get back and help my roommates prepare dinner.”

An amiable smile replaced the look of disappointment on Jisung’s face. “I understand. Let me help you carry those, at least?” He didn’t wait for an answer and grabbed the bags from Minho’s left hand. The latter was grateful to be relieved of the burden, for his shoulder’s sake.

The walk back to Minho’s home revealed that Jisung was two years his junior and that he had studied digital arts (“Not as prestigious as dog catching,” Jisung quipped). He had interned at a video game developer for six months post-graduation, but he moved back in town when a stable job eluded him in Seoul. In return, Minho confessed that he had an economics degree under his belt but had taken the leap to pursue his passion in dance about a year ago. It led to him becoming an instructor at a dance academy run by his old acquaintance Chan.

“Do you offer private lessons?” Jisung asked. The question was innocent enough, but Minho felt the tips of his ears heat up anyway.

“If you’re asking if you can afford me, the answer is no.”

Jisung chuckled, “Remind me never to stroke your ego, ’cause it’s plenty big as is.”

Minho laughed weakly; he feared his ears might have disintegrated in flames by now. Jisung seemed oblivious to his predicament as they paused their walk to exchange numbers, with Jisung reminding Minho about his rain check for coffee.

“Well, here we are,” Minho announced louder than necessary when his house came into view. He reclaimed the grocery bags from Jisung, ready to bolt inside before the younger could notice his beet red ears. “Thanks again for your help with these, have a good nigh—”

“Aww, what a sweet kitty!” Jisung had bent down to coo over a black cat rubbing and purring against his leg. Nami’s name was ready to roll off Minho’s tongue, except the cat had longer hair and greener eyes...

“Gureum??”

Minho could hardly believe the sight. In the year that he’d known the stray cat, Gureum had not once approached him with such affection, rarely tolerating being touched at all. Yet here he was, hamming it up with Jisung like they were longtime besties.

“Is he yours?” Jisung asked. Gureum arched his back into Jisung’s gentle strokes.

“Uh... no, pets aren’t allowed at my place. He’s a stray I look after along with his sister Nami.”

As if summoned by name, the female cat emerged from the shadows and approached Jisung with a soft meow. Soon both felines were drunk in love, trilling and pawing at Jisung for attention, with Gureum even jumping into Jisung’s arms.

Minho watched on with fondness mixed with a tinge of jealousy. “You must be made of at least 60 percent catnip. That’s the only reason they could betray me like this.”

“What can I say? Animals love me. I’m a regular Disney princess.”

After 10 more minutes of the love fest, Jisung handed Gureum to Minho. As expected, the cat jumped out of Minho’s arms with a hiss.

“Well, I’ve kept you long enough. It was nice meeting the kitties.”

“I think they enjoyed meeting you too.” They both shared a chuckle at the understatement. Minho gave a little wave goodbye when Jisung was about to head off. “Good night, Snow White.”

Jisung bowed formally in return. “And to you, Prince Charming.”

Minho halted his wave and raised a brow at that, but he supposed it was better than being one of the dwarves.

* * *

The next morning, when Minho had the house to himself again, he brought two cans of cat food outside and called out to the feline siblings. Per usual, Nami came scurrying first and yowled impatiently for her meal; her brother followed her without fanfare, preserving his feline dignity.

Minho opened a third can of food—dog food—and placed it farther away from the house where the sidewalk began. He sat back on the front steps and waited.

As if on cue, the guest of honor made her appearance not one minute later. She cautiously sniffed the dog food before diving in hungrily.

“Genius Lee strikes again,” Minho muttered to himself without shame.

After Nami scarfed down her breakfast, she ambled toward the dog, though skipping the formality of a greeting to dig into whatever the dog was eating. Surprisingly, the pup didn’t mind sharing her food.

Minho pulled out his phone again, and he made sure to silence it before taking a shot of Nami licking off bits of food that had stuck to the dog’s fur.

Later that day, Minho messaged Jisung with the photo and invited him to witness it in person next time.

* * *

“Ta-da,” Jisung said as he presented Minho with a cup of piping hot coffee. “I got this from the new coffee place a couple blocks down.”

Minho accepted the offering and scooted sideways to let Jisung settle beside him on the steps. He took a large gulp of his drink, relishing the hot bitterness on his tongue. Nami and Gureum were by their feet and busy chomping on their breakfast. The bait of dog food sat farther away on the same spot near the sidewalk.

“This doesn’t count as our coffee date, by the way.” Jisung cheekily smiled while sipping from his own cup.

Minho turned over the word _date_ in his mind, but stopped himself before he could overthink it. He reminded himself that friends went out for meaningless coffee all the time.

Suddenly Jisung jabbed at his arm repeatedly, alerting him to the dog’s arrival. With bated breath they watched her dig into her food. After licking up the last bits, she cocked her head in their direction with ears perked. Jisung apparently took it as a sign to approach her, but Minho held him back by the waist before he could get up.

“She’s not ready,” Minho said. “Give her some more time to get used to us.”

Jisung blinked at him several times, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red. Minho realized that he’d pulled the younger toward him a bit too closely; he retracted his arm.

“You’re not going to work today?” Jisung asked with eyes focused on anywhere but the older. His hands fiddled with the coffee lid.

“It’s my week off,” Minho vaguely supplied. “Hey, if you’re not busy today, wanna grab lunch later? There’s an Asian-Mediterranean fusion place I’ve been curious to try.”

_Not a date. Friends went out for meaningless lunch all the time._

“I would love to, hyung.”

Despite the previous mental disclaimer, the genuineness of Jisung’s reply threw Minho’s heartbeat off rhythm.

* * *

“Why don’t you give her a name?” Minho asked the following morning. Jisung had once again come bearing gifts of caffeine, and Minho inhaled the aroma of freshly made Americano in his hands. It was a particularly frosty morning, and Jisung’s knee bounced distractingly next to his.

“I dunno,” Jisung took a sip of his drink and knitted his brow in thought. “I suppose I worry that I’d get too attached to her.”

“Isn’t it a bit too late for that, though?”

They paused their talk to watch the dog roll around and wriggle on her back while Nami batted at her playful antics. Meanwhile, Gureum silently judged them from atop a brick wall.

Jisung’s knee stopped bouncing, and he turned to Minho, though not fully meeting his gaze. His belated answer came with a wistful smile.

“Maybe.”

* * *

And so a daily routine was set: the dog would stop by whenever the cats were fed, play with Nami, and scamper off after a complimentary tongue bath courtesy of the cat.

Minho had become a tad too obsessed with playing dog whisperer in his week off, so when the following Monday came around, he welcomed it with open arms.

He had to admit the week of rest did wonders for his physical recovery. He was now able to lift his left arm slightly above his shoulder without pain, a dramatic improvement from being barely able to button up his own shirt.

“I would say _I told you so_ ,” Chan said when Minho returned to work in his improved condition, “but since I’m a nice person, I’ll gloat in private.”

Minho buried a cutting retort beneath a diplomatic smile.

Under his colleague Hyunjin’s watchful eye, he took care to not overextend himself in his classes, with Hyunjin stepping in to teach the more difficult parts of the choreography.

_Better a bruised ego than a busted up shoulder,_ was his own sage advice at the end of the day.

When he stepped off the bus that evening, Minho bought three dumplings instead of the usual two, in case he happened to run into another stray cat or dog. Or a squirrel-like human for that matter.

Indeed he spotted said human standing on the sidewalk when he reached his street—except Jisung was in a hoodie and sweatpants, and conspicuously missing a coat on this wintry night.

“Hey hyung,” Jisung said through chattering teeth. He wrapped his arms around himself and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Mind if I borrow your phone?”

Minho’s brow furrowed in concern. “What’s going on?”

“Um... funny story,” Jisung sniffed and twitched his pink nose. “I was at home when I heard barking noises from the street, and when I looked out the window I saw our pup being chased by a neighbor’s dog, so I ran outside to make sure she was okay and I... may have... kind of... locked myself out of the house.”

“What? How long have you been standing out here?”

“I dunno, an hour at most maybe? I just need to call the locksmi—”

Minho shushed Jisung by shoving the bag of dumplings into his hands, so that he could loop his own scarf around Jisung’s neck and chin. He pulled Jisung close to his side and steered them both homeward, deflecting any apologetic objections from the younger.

“Seungmin-ah, Jeongin-ah, this is Jisung,” Minho announced as soon as he ushered his frozen friend inside. “He lives down the street from us.”

Seungmin, who had been frying _pajeon_ in the kitchen, stared at them both for a confused second, then bowed politely. Jeongin emerged from his room, removed his earphones, and also greeted Jisung with a bow.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Jisung addressed the two roommates as he thawed in the middle of the living room. Minho quickly retrieved a wool blanket and draped it over Jisung’s shoulders.

“You idiot,” Minho’s voice was laced with more worry than rebuke. He clasped Jisung’s cold hands between his own and rubbed them to warm them up as best he could. “Your hands are freezing... I repeat, you _idiot._ ”

Jisung sniffled with a self-assured smile. “It’s okay, I knew you’d come rescue me. You’re Prince Charming after all.”

From the kitchen, Seungmin sputtered a laugh which he immediately covered up with a cough. Jeongin smacked him on the arm, though he couldn’t hide a snicker of his own.

Minho lightly flicked Jisung’s forehead. “Delirium is a sign of hypothermia. Should I be worried?”

Jisung shook his head. “I’m more worried about our pup,” he said, smile faltering. “If the other dog hurt her...”

“I’m sure she’s fine. She can take care of herself.”

It was at this moment that Minho realized he was still holding onto Jisung’s hands, which had become much warmer now. Or maybe it was the illusion of his own fingers acclimating to the cold touch. He released his grasp and brought his hands to hang awkwardly at his side.

Jisung cleared his throat after a brief silence. “So um, I need to borrow your phone to call the locksmith.”

“What about your parents?”

“They’re in Daegu for the week and returning tomorrow,” Jisung said with another pitiful sniffle. “Fantastic timing, huh?”

“Why don’t you spend the night here?” Seungmin interjected, raising his spatula in the air, ever the reasonable one of the household. “Jeongin and I wouldn’t mind. Plus I imagine the locksmith will charge you an exorbitant fee for after-hours service.”

Minho stamped down the urge to reach for Jisung’s hands again; he nodded in agreement with Seungmin’s proposal.

After repeatedly being assured by the housemates that his presence wouldn’t be a nuisance, Jisung borrowed Minho’s phone to inform his parents where he’d be staying until tomorrow.

“Yes, mom, I’ll be fine,” Jisung sighed like a sullen teenager. “Huh? Okay, hold on a sec.” He pressed the speakerphone button and held the phone up to Minho. “Um... my mom wants to talk to you.”

Minho accepted the phone in his hand, glancing at the younger with uncertainty. “H-Hello?”

“Minho-sshi?” a bright female voice popped from the speaker. “I don’t know how to thank you for taking care of our little Jisungie.”

Jisung cringed and buried his face in his hands at the pet name. Minho barely contained his laughter from bubbling out and decided he definitely liked Jisung’s mother.

“It’s no problem, ma’am. We’re glad to have him here. He’s a good kid.”

_Kid?_ Jisung mouthed at the affront.

“Jisung-ah,” Mrs. Han continued, “by any chance, is he the handsome neighbor with the pretty eyes?”

Jisung blanched, his eyes widening in horror. “Mom, you’re on _speakerphone!_ ”

“Geez, calm down, honey. I’m just quoting your own words.”

Seungmin and Jeongin had remained in the kitchen with their backs turned to the scene, but their shoulders shook in silent laughter.

Minho tugged on his own warm ears at the indirect compliment. Jisung, however, looked as though he wanted to vanish on the spot and soullessly ended the call.

“Come on, Snow White,” Minho said to bring back some levity. “Have a seat and relax. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Jisung curled up on the couch and yanked the wool blanket over his head like a cocoon of shame. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Seungmin called for dinner.

The four of them gathered at the kitchen table for a hearty meal of scallion pancake and soybean paste stew. To Minho’s surprise, Jisung got on swimmingly with Seungmin and Jeongin, especially the youngest who shared Jisung’s enthusiasm for all things video game-related. Jisung and Minho volunteered for cleanup duty afterward and teamed up to tackle the dishes. Jisung seemed to have gotten over the earlier hump of shame, and they exchanged furtive smiles at the sink, letting the running water do the talking for them.

As Jeongin and Seungmin flicked through the Netflix catalogue for post-dinner entertainment, Minho led Jisung outside where the two cats were already clamoring for their meal.

Farther up the edge of the property, the scruffy white pup sat patiently for her own meal—looking none the worse for wear, much to their relief. She scurried off when Minho brought her food and slunk back when the coast was clear.

Before the cats could hold Jisung hostage in another love fest, Minho escorted him back into the warmth of the house.

The four men shared beer and dried squid over a low-budget horror flick about—fittingly enough—zombie squids. The younger roommates retreated to their rooms halfway through the movie and left Minho and Jisung to whisper in each other’s ears in between hilarious scenes of tentacle violence. Their voices had turned hoarse from laughter by the time credits rolled.

Later that night, Minho gave Jisung a spare toothbrush along with some clothes to sleep in. His gaze lingered a beat too long on the younger when the he emerged from the bathroom in Minho’s oversized anime shirt and pair of spare boxers, and his hair freshly damp from the shower.

“Hyung, what are you doing?” Jisung said, watching Minho unfurl a mat on the bedroom floor.

“I changed the sheets for you, so go ahead and take the bed. I’ll sleep down here.”

With his mouth drawn in an uncharacteristically solemn line, Jisung crouched down next to Minho on the floor. “I can’t do that in good conscience. Didn’t Seungmin mention that you have a sprained shoulder?”

And Seungmin should’ve kept his mouth shut, Minho thought in annoyance. He tossed his pillow onto the mat and spread out his extra blanket. “I’ll be fine, okay? Now go to bed, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Wrong Disney princess _._ And no, I refuse. You take the bed and I’ll sleep down here.”

“You’re the guest, Jisung. I can’t let you do that.”

“Try me.”

Jisung planted himself firmly on the floor and crossed his arms. Minho struggled to react to this new visage of defiance in which Jisung’s normally soft features grew a hardened edge.

Minho ran a hand through his hair and sighed in advance of what he was about to say.

“Fine, we’ll both take the bed.”

“I won’t let you sleep on the fl—wait, what?” Jisung blinked in a mental double-take.

“Don’t get any weird ideas,” Minho hurried to say, his face heating up. “You’ll sleep under the covers and I’ll sleep on top of them.” He cleared his throat. “Sound okay?”

“Oh... s-sure!”

Jisung retreated onto the bed and shimmied under the covers until he was pressed to the wall. After flicking off the lights, Minho grabbed his pillow from the floor and lay down beside Jisung. Despite being separated by sufficient layers of fabric, he left as much space between their bodies as possible without falling off the narrow bed.

“Hyung?” Jisung’s voice was small in the darkness. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Go to sleep, Han Jisung.”

Silence filled the room again—long enough that Minho began to slip toward slumber. For the first time in awhile, he could lay in bed without fixating on his shoulder, the pain having subsided to a distant hum in his mind’s background.

Jisung’s words yanked him back awake though they were a bare whisper. “Thank you for looking after the pup.”

Minho turned his head to Jisung; his gaze traced the faint line of the younger’s profile before turning away. “It’s no big deal.”

“I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Yeah, me too. Now please go to sleep.”

With his senses dulled by fatigue, he thought he felt Jisung’s hand move under the covers and rest under his own hand. _But that would be silly_ , he concluded right before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Three weeks rolled by, and Minho made good progress—on his shoulder, at least. He regained most of his range of motion and was no longer plagued by pain at night. A little bit of temperance and patience went a long way; a lesson hard-earned.

Yet his progress was lacking when it came to catching the stray dog. She continued to come by for her daily feedings but seemed to trust him no more than the first day they’d met. His heart sank to see that a life on the streets had dulled her fluffy white coat to gray.

A bad snowstorm was to hit over the weekend, and his first thought was on how the dog would survive it. He tried not to ponder her fragile body shivering under a mound of ice, and instead took action by creating makeshift shelters out of storage bins, insulating them with styrofoam and straw inside. He placed two near the doorstep for the cats and one on the edge of the property for the pup.

The day before the pending storm, his concern grew when the dog failed to show up at all. Perhaps her canine sixth sense had warned that a harsh storm was brewing and she’d sought shelter in advance. (That was what he’d liked to believe, as he couldn’t bear to think of worse.)

“Do you think she’s okay?” Jisung’s eyes glistened with worry. He and Minho had been roaming the neighborhood all night in search of the missing pup. The first snowflakes began to descend—a deceptively peaceful harbinger of what was to follow.

Rather than answering, Minho gave the younger’s arm a squeeze that he hoped was reassuring.

It was almost midnight when they called off the search. The snow was falling heavy enough to bury their footprints, absorbing all sounds save for the whistling wind.

“She’ll be fine,” Minho said before they parted, though not entirely convinced of his own words.

When he arrived home, Minho checked the makeshift shelters; Nami and Gureum were nestled snugly in theirs, but the third one remained empty.

He couldn’t tell if the watering in his eyes was from the blustering wind, or something else.

The clock read 2 a.m. when Minho finally slid into bed. He counted sheep against the ceiling in vain, until the unease in his heart got the better of him and he threw on his coat to trudge outside one last time.

The snow had accumulated to the ankle by now; it would be up to the knee by morning, the forecast had warned. He peered into the hole of the third shelter and was met with darkness again.

As he climbed the front steps, a small mewl came from Nami’s den. He crouched down and peered inside—and found white fur mixed with black.

“Puppy?!”

Sure enough, there lay Nami and the dog curled up into each other like a furry yin-yang symbol. Minho sputtered a laugh in equal parts disbelief and relief. Nami poked her head out of the hole with inquisitive eyes, prompting the dog to do the same. Her tiny white snout wiggled as she sniffed Minho’s familiar scent.

Figuring this could be his only chance, he reached out slowly and stroked her head with a finger, which she instantly leaned into. His heart raced at this new development—the culmination of over a month’s worth of patient work. He scooped up the pup, cradled her fragile body against his chest, and headed back inside. (He left the kitties in the safety of their dens, knowing they’d freak out if he tried to bring them inside as well.)

After cleaning her fur of street dirt and feeding her a warm meal, he laid down a mat near a space heater and watched her curl up in his lap like a furry little croissant. Enamored of the sight, he couldn’t resist taking a photo and sending it to Jisung, figuring it would be a nice present to wake up to in the morning. To his surprise, his messaging app chirped with a reply mere seconds later.  
  


**_Han Jisung:_ ** _IM COMING OVER NOW_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _wait sorry that was rude of me_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _hyung-ah~ may i please come over~~♡♡♡_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _fine but do so at your own risk_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _if you wake up seungmin i cannot guarantee your safety_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _i’ll be as quiet as a mouse_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _but you’re a squirrel_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _NOT THE TIME_

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, and having tiptoed into the house with great caution, Han Jisung was lying on Minho’s bedroom floor making silly cooing noises that Minho hadn’t thought was humanly possible.

Apparently Jisung had left his dignity at the door; and well, Minho couldn’t blame him. It was impossible not to fall in love with the pup.

Away from the dangers of street life, she was like a completely different dog: bouncing happily between Minho and Jisung and strutting around like she owned the place. She rolled on her back with a lolling tongue, seemingly insatiable in her desire for belly rubs.

After half an hour of romping around, she finally tired herself out and curled back into a croissant on the floor mat. Jisung shifted to lay next to her and stroked her fur. He blinked slowly at Minho with a sleepy smile.

“You can sleep here if you want,” Minho said, ignoring the stutter in his chest.

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, you’re the dog-sitter for the night.”

With a weight lifted from his shoulders now that the dog was safe and sound, Minho also felt the pull of sleep and yawned with a grunt.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jisung said as Minho turned off the lights. Minho didn’t object this time.

Without a word, he lay down on his side on the floor, opposite of Jisung so that the dog was nestled between their bodies. He reached out for her in the dark, and his fingers brushed against Jisung’s as they both petted her fur in soothing strokes.

Soon the accidental touches became a deliberate inching of hands until their fingers were laced together. Minho’s heartbeat was deafening in his own ears, drowning out the sound of the dog’s rhythmic snoring.

“What are we doing?” Jisung whispered.

Minho attempted to retract his hand in a flare of panic, but he was prevented by Jisung tightening his hold in a more secure grip. The younger gave a squeeze as if to reassure Minho that he wanted this; wanted _him._

“Isn’t this the part where you confess to me?” Jisung said, a cheeky smile evident in his tone.

Minho hoped his voice didn’t waver with the next words. “Han Jisung, I confess that I find you completely insufferable.”

“Close enough.”

_But not close enough._

Minho exhaled in relief when Jisung’s hand moved up to cup his cheek. Jisung’s thumb gently swiped the rise of his cheekbone, then wandered lower to trace the curve of his lips. Minho shifted closer—as much as he could without disturbing the sleeping dog between them—and curled his hand around Jisung’s waist to palm the hot skin through the thin cotton layer of shirt.

When Minho sensed Jisung shift onto his elbow, he lifted his head just far enough to brush their lips together. And Minho didn’t know a kiss could be so intoxicating. The soft noises of lips meeting and parting grew steadily louder, more desperate, until an abrupt snort from the dog broke the rising tension. Jisung gently butted his forehead to Minho’s as they huffed out a laugh in unison.

“Did the dog just cockblock us?” Jisung said in mock offense.

Minho playfully shoved him away; with his own body heating up in predictable places, perhaps it was for the best that they stopped when they did.

“Good night, _little Jisungie_.”

Jisung groaned, “Yep, that killed the mood.” Despite his petulance, his hand found Minho’s easily in the dark. “Good night, hyung-ah.”

* * *

Minho awoke with the sunbeam on his face and a fantastic crick in his neck.

He raised a hand to his lips in an unconscious motion, the memory of last night’s kiss vivid even in his sleep-addled state. His other hand blindly fumbled next to him in search of a warm body and—

Nothing.

They hadn’t even slept together (in the Biblical sense), but seeing the empty space on the mat where a Jisung-shaped body should have been set off a minor wave of panic anyway.

A folded piece of paper that was stuck to the edge of the mat caught his eye. He snatched it up, his heart pounding relentlessly.  
  


_My dearest hyung-ah,_

_I’ve done it. I’ve taken the dog. Together we’re fleeing the cruel life of the city and settling down in a remote cottage in the woods. Don’t bother searching for us. By the time you read this, we’ll have crossed the mountains and rivers and gone off the grid. Send my mother my regards, and give Gureum a kiss for me. (Oh wait you can’t ha ha.)_

_Squirrelheartedly Yours_ _  
__Little Jisungie_

_P.S. I’m actually taking the dog to the animal clinic to make sure she’s okay and everything. Be back soon~_

_P.P.S. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen ♡_

  
“Stupid brat,” Minho softly muttered, unable to keep a smile a bay. He threw on his fleece robe and shuffled into the kitchen.

“Your boyfriend made coffee,” Jeongin said as he poured himself a fresh cup from the carafe, then passed the mug to Minho who looked like he needed it more.

“He’s not my—ugh, never mind.”

He took a long sip and peered out the window and into the neighborhood blanketed in pristine white. The night winds had shaped the snow into gentle hills and valleys, and the sole sounds were the diligent scraping of shovels across concrete. Thankfully the accumulation didn’t seem as bad as forecasted.

When his phone chirped with a message, his heart nearly stopped at Jisung’s name in the push notification.  
  


**_Han Jisung:_ ** _SHE HAS A MICROCHIP!!!_ _  
  
_

He unlocked his phone at lightning speed but waited another minute to reply.  
  


**_Lee Minho:_ ** _yoooo that’s great news! 👍_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _YES HOLY SHIT_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _the clinic staff is contacting the owners now_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _they must be worried sick ㅠㅠ_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _good job han jisung, looks like she’ll get to go home soon_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _hope so!! ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _consider my fingers and toes and tentacles crossed_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _what_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _keep me posted~ 🤞_

  
After washing up, Minho helped Seungmin shovel the walkway clear and fed Nami and Gureum their breakfast. When the cats had their fill, they weaved their way into the streets, leaving behind a trail of dainty paw prints in the snow.

Curiously enough, another hour passed without an update from Jisung, so Minho sent him a nudge.  
  


**_Lee Minho:_ ** _so were the owners notified? did she go home?_

  
Twenty minutes later and the unread “1” still hadn’t disappeared from under his message. With a frustrated groan, he stared at his phone with his head hanging off the edge of the bed, turning his vision upside down. Perhaps if enough blood pooled to his brain he could figure out why Jisung would have the sudden audacity to ignore him.  
  


**_Lee Minho:_ ** _han._

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _ji._

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _sung._

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _yah_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _?_

  
A muted knock came from the door as he pressed send to the last message. Seungmin’s upside-down head popped in the room a second later.

“Hyung, you might wanna check outside.”

“Huh? Why?”

Seungmin pressed his mouth in a firm line, though his eyes were sympathetic.

Minho didn’t bother asking twice; he bundled up in his jacket and boots and pulled a beanie over his head. When he rushed out the front door on autopilot, he nearly tripped over a body that was sitting on the steps.

Jisung turned around, startled by the sudden noise.

Had Minho been a sentimental fool, he would’ve waxed poetic about how ethereal Jisung looked then and there, with the sweet pink that kissed his cheeks and his black hair a beautiful contrast to the pale skies. The stray snowflakes that weren’t caught in his hair danced across his face like fairy dust. (Okay, maybe he was a tad sentimental.)

Except he also noticed that Jisung’s eyes were red-rimmed, and his nose was a similar shade of red which probably wasn’t caused by the frigid air.

In his lap Jisung cradled the pup which happened to be dressed in an adorable doggy sweater. It was embellished with an acorn pattern, of course.

“I was starting to think that you really did run off to the woods,” Minho said, taking a seat next to the younger.

Jisung lifted the corner of his mouth into a rueful smile that faltered almost instantly. He cradled the dog closer to his chest and stroked her fur.

The silence that followed dragged on long enough that Minho thought it might be better to leave him alone, until Jisung finally spoke.

“She’s too old. We don’t want her back.”

Minho held back the question on his tongue and waited for him to continue.

“That’s what her owners said over the phone.” Jisung’s voice was small, heavy with hurt. “Just—how can people be so fucking heartless?”

It was disheartening news, and Minho hated that he wasn’t surprised by it, having known of people abandoning their pets for a myriad of indefensible reasons. He kept the sentiment to himself, though. He didn’t need to push Jisung further into a spiral of despair.

“Not everyone is compassionate toward animals. Or is as kind-hearted as you.” Minho gently bumped his knee to Jisung’s. “The important thing is, you saved her life.”

Jisung pressed his lips together, clearly unconsoled. “That was technically your doing, hyung.”

“Well, the truth is—I wouldn’t have cared if you hadn’t cared first. It was your doing as much as mine.”

“Then why do I feel like I failed her?”

“Look at her,” Minho nodded at the dog in Jisung’s lap. She pushed her nose into Jisung’s hand to solicit more pets, her tail a blur of happy wags. “Do you think she’s worried about her past life right now?”

Jisung furrowed his brow in thought, then relaxed when the dog burrowed herself deeper in his arms. He regarded the pup with a hopeless sort of love manifested in blissful resignation, and Minho wondered if his own face had ever revealed the same to anyone else. He unconsciously tugged at his own ear.

“She really likes you,” Minho stated the obvious.

Jisung snorted. “Maybe I smell like T-bone steak, or whatever the canine equivalent of catnip is.”

“Or maybe you have a _je ne sais quoi_ that makes everyone fall for you.” Minho flushed at the words that came out of his own mouth; since when did he become such a sappy bastard?

Jisung lifted his gaze to meet Minho’s. “Did it work on you?”

Minho gave a small yelp, inadvertently pinching his earlobe too hard. He hurriedly stood up as his brain scrambled to change the subject. “Yah..! While you’re here, help me shovel the sidewalk.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jisung rose to his feet and deposited the dog in Minho’s arms. He grabbed the snow shovel that had been placed by the doorway, and before going to work on the snow, he leaned in to capture Minho’s lips in a gentle kiss. The contact was brief ( _too brief_ ), but it left Minho’s lips hot and tingling all the same.

* * *

Three days later, Seungmin called an emergency meeting at the kitchen table.

“Hyung, we can’t keep her here for much longer,” he said. “The landlady will evict us if she finds out.” His grave tone was undermined by the white bundle of fur licking his chin.

Jeongin reached over to scratch the dog behind the ears which she responded to by thumping her rear leg like an elated bunny. “As much as I like having her around, I have to agree with Seungminie hyung. Can’t Jisung hyung take her in?”

Minho shook his head. “His dad is allergic, so that’s a no.”

The local shelter wasn’t an ideal option either, as it was already overcrowded with unwanted animals.

So Minho gathered up all of his courage and put on his game face before dialing Chan’s number.

“Channie hyung,” Minho said in a tone that was usually reserved for fawning over kittens. “Can I ask you for a tiny, itty-bitty favor?”

“The hell?!” came Chan’s perturbed voice from the other end of the line. “Talk like a normal person first, and I’ll consider it.”

“Oh thank god you hate aegyo as much as I do,” Minho said, his voice dropping two octaves.

“Unless it’s from Felix... anyway, what is it?”

Minho cringed at the mental picture and continued.

“So hyung... you like dogs, right?”

* * *

“Oh my god she’s so cute I wanna die,” Hyunjin practically sobbed.

He, Felix, and Minho were seated on the floor of the dance studio after having wrapped up their final classes. The dog was putting on a devastatingly cute display by pawing at her own reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

After realizing that she couldn’t reach through the glass to play with her twin, she trotted over to Felix and curled up in his lap. He stroked her gently from head to tail.

“She’s nine? She’s not even that old,” Felix tutted when Minho explained the unfortunate circumstances that led her here.

Hyunjin flopped onto his stomach and rested his chin on his folded arms. “Poor baby. If Kkami weren’t such a grumpy old man, I’d take her.” He crawled toward Felix’s lap and scratched the top of the dog’s head. “So is Channie hyung adopting her?”

“No,” Minho said, “he’ll be fostering her till I can find her a permanent home.”

“Hope she doesn’t wait too long.”

Later that evening, Chan walked into the room with a small dog carrier in hand and ready to close up the studio. The dog had fallen asleep in Felix’s arms with her legs splayed out in the air.

Felix looked up at Chan, at Hyunjin, then at Minho, with a heart-meltingly soft expression and whispered, “I don’t wanna let her go.”

* * *

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _hi guess what i have good news_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _you’ve completed your mission on earth and have been summoned back to your home planet?_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _even better_

**_Lee Minho:_ ** _felix is adopting our pupppyyyyyyy_

**_Han Jisung:_ ** _[📞 Voice Call ]_

“That’s the best news I’ve ever heard,” Jisung exclaimed as soon as Minho accepted the call.

“She hit the jackpot,” Minho raised his voice to speak over the bus noises. “Felix will be a great dad.” He started when a little girl seated in front of him yelled the chorus of “Into the Unknown”.

“And we can be the doting uncles who spoil her rotten.” Jisung briefly waited before continuing, his voice sounding more even. “Hyung, I have some good news too. Though it won’t beat the one you just shared,” he ended with a small laugh.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I got a job offer in Goyang.”

Minho blinked and sat up straighter in his seat, a flurry of emotions swirling in his chest. “Oh wow, that’s—congratulations!”

“It’s a small developer, but they’re working on some cool indie games that I’ll get to help design.”

“That’s amazing, Jisung.” Minho swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat. He wanted to kick himself; this wasn’t the appropriate reaction at all. “What about... have you found a place of your own, then?”

“I’m going apartment hunting tomorrow. I’m sure I can secure a place by week’s end.”

In the back of his mind, Minho had known this moment was inevitable, but it didn’t lessen the gut punch of a reality in which Han Jisung would no longer be his neighbor. Which meant that Jisung would no longer greet him with coffee in the morning, or stop by to play with the cats, or sneak in kisses that left Minho yearning for more.

“I’ll only be an hour’s bus ride away,” Jisung assured as if he’d read Minho’s thoughts.

In his struggle to find the right words, Minho became distracted by the little girl in front who pressed her nose to the bus window, fogging up the glass with a puff of breath. She drew a crooked heart on the condensation.

“You’d better visit often,” Minho said quietly, his gaze fixed on the evaporating heart. “Jinju will want to see you.”

“Jinju?”

“That’s what Felix named the dog.”

It was a fitting name for a precious jewel like her, and Minho knew Jisung would agree. He could hear Jisung smiling through the phone in his reply.

“It’s perfect.”

* * *

“Fresh steamed dumplings!”

The lady’s familiar voice rang in the air when Minho stepped off the bus. Clouds of steam rose from the food stand and warmed the chilled faces of customers who had gathered around.

On any other evening, he would have made a detour for the delicious dumplings, but tonight he was preoccupied with a more important matter to tend to. The quicker his steps echoed in the streets, the more winding the path homeward seemed to become.

As he finally approached his house, he noticed a figure seated on the front steps, petting Nami and Gureum with each hand. He knew there was only one person in the world who could pull off such a feat.

“Han Jisung,” Minho said. “How was the bus ride?”

“Hyung!” Jisung sprang to his feet with a smile that nearly split his face in half. He quickly closed the gap between them and jumped into Minho’s arms. Minho hoisted him up by the thighs and received a flurry of light kisses to his face until Jisung’s lips found his, their mouths moving impatiently to deepen the kiss after being touch-starved all week. They had a lot of catching up to do.

“I bought dumplings,” Jisung said when his feet finally touched the ground. He dangled a small bag from his hand.

“But my favorite ones are right here.” Minho leaned in and gently nipped Jisung on the cheek.

Jisung scrunched up his nose and lightly smacked Minho’s arm. “Gross—not in front of the children!” They both looked down at Nami who was weaving through their legs, then at Gureum who was grooming himself several paces away, unfazed as ever.

Minho pulled in Jisung closer by the waist, and he set aside his earlier impatience and brought their lips together once more—slowly this time, all delicate pecks, savoring the scent of Jisung’s cologne. Their Friday night was just beginning and he would have Jisung all to himself for the weekend.

The moment was interrupted by Seungmin and Jeongin who whooped their greetings from the door.

With a hand on the small of the younger’s back, Minho gently nudged him toward the house. “Better go inside before you catch a cold.”

The two roommates motioned Jisung inside the building, the chaotic overlapping of their voices fading once they’d shut the door behind. They obviously wasted no time filling each other in on the past week’s adventures.

Minho turned to follow the others in, but he froze in place when something brushed against his leg. His gaze fell downward and found Gureum purring sweetly against him. The cat looked up with wide green eyes that blinked slowly in a sign of trust.

Though Minho was tempted to pinch himself and make sure he wasn’t dreaming, he moved not one muscle for fear that the moment would be ruined.

His mind suddenly flashed back to sleepless nights with an aching shoulder; to Jinju’s huddled figure by the street lamp; to Jisung’s face turned skyward on that snowy morning on the steps. And now as he watched Gureum amble off to join his sister, Minho was comforted by the simple truth that everyone heals at their own pace.

“Hyung,” Jisung popped back outside to call, “Jeongin found the sequel to the zombie squid flick! Hurry in so we can get started.”

“Alright, I’m coming,” Minho said as he glimpsed up at the clear night sky. He paused for a moment to behold Jisung waiting for him at the doorstep, and he headed toward the warmth of home.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation notes: Gureum (구름) = cloud / Jinju (진주) = pearl
> 
> My apologies to Changbin whom I couldn't fit into a cameo role. T_T
> 
> Thank you so much for reading ❤


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